Colors
by kathiann
Summary: Jane and Lisbon are talking about their favorite colors, their least favorite colors, and the meanings behind them. One shot.


**Authors Note: **This was partially inspired by the 10 song drabble challenge that I did and also by a conversation I had with Leighannamarie. I hadn't planned on expanding on the drabble that this came from, but sometimes, it just happens. And I just went back and looked to get the name of the song, and it's not there. In the fic that I posted that is, so…yeah, don't know what happened to it, maybe I imagined it, maybe it's on my flash drive that I lost (again) with the rest of my story ideas. Anyway, the song is Drive by Alan Jackson. Don't ask how this came out of that. It just did. Thanks to Ebony10 for the beta.

**Disclaimer: **Do I even have to say it? Of course they're not mine.

**Colors**

"Come on, tell me what your favorite color is and I'll tell you what it means."

"No, this is absolutely ridiculous. I am not going to tell you. Besides, you probably already know anyway."

"I've got an idea, but I want to be sure I'm right."

"Ok. Well then, you tell me what you think it is and I'll tell you if you're right."

"Blue."

"Good guess. Now what does that tell you about me?"

"Blue is a naturally calming color. You like it for the ability it has to relax you at the end of a long day. You would rather wear blue than green because you think it makes your eyes look bluer—which is true, it does—but I still like them as green. You've liked blue since you were a girl, probably because your home life wasn't the best especially after you mom died."

"Stop, that's enough. Now, will you leave me alone?"

"Why is it that you never want to talk about what happened to your mom or what happened after she died? I know it must have been horribly traumatic for you."

"Why is it that you don't want to talk about your wife or daughter? That must have been horribly traumatic for you. Now leave. You've had your fun at my expense and once a day is all you get. If you want to analyze me more, you'll have to wait for tomorrow."

Jane ignored her and took a seat across from her. "Knowing your favorite color is telling, but your least favorite: that can tell you even more. Tell me, Lisbon, why don't you like the color red?"

_A flash, grinding squealing metal, breaking glass. _Lisbon shook her head. "Tell you what, Jane, you tell me why you don't like red and I'll tell you why I don't like red."

"Who says I don't like red?"

"You're not the only one who's been paying attention. You go out of your way to avoid the color red. At Christmas and Valentines, even when you give cards they are never red. You don't eat the red M&M's and never once have I seen you steal one of the Red Vines that Van Pelt keeps in her desk for when she needs a mid-afternoon pick me up."

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were stalking me." He laughed. And then turned serious. "Since when was this about me?"

"Turn about is fair play. If you want to know my secrets, you have to tell me yours."

He contemplated her for a minute trying to decide if it would be worth letting a little bit of his past out for a little bit of hers. "You go first."

"Nope. Not going to happen. If I go first, you'll sit here, listen, make some sort of sarcastic comment that in your sick twisted mind is supposed to make me feel better, and then disappear into the night before I figure out what just happened."

"You know me too well. Fine. I hate blood. Blood is red. I can't help but think of that night whenever I see blood, whenever I see red. I close my eyes and it's there. That note, the smiley face and then the blood. Do you know how much blood two bodies can produce? Everywhere. That's why I hate the color red."

Lisbon was shocked. She hadn't actually thought he would share. "Wow, that's a far more powerful reason to hate the color red." She paused a minute, gathering her thoughts. "Um, red was the color of my first car. A gift from my parents when I passed my driving test. It was a week after my 16th birthday, and my dad was waiting for me and my mom when we got home from the DMV. It was a little red car. I don't even remember the make and model—I didn't care. It was a car. My brothers had wanted to go for a ride with me, but I said no. I didn't want to take my brothers for a ride the first time in my new car. Instead I took my mom. She had promised me ice cream for passing the test. I know it's childish, but it was a tradition. Every time you passed a difficult test, you got ice cream. We were just driving down the street, almost to the ice cream parlor. It wasn't really busy, but we weren't the only cars on the street by any means. We were going through an intersection. There was a light, but it was green. Later they interviewed the person who was behind us who said that they didn't even see the car coming until it hit us, full on the passenger side. I don't remember. All I see when I close my eyes is a flash and I hear the sound of the metal grinding together, the squealing as it twisted, the breaking of glass." She paused to calm her racing heart. She couldn't think of that day without her heart pounding, even after all these years. "I ended up in the hospital for a month. My mom died at the scene. I didn't even get to go to her funeral. I was told it was lovely. The other guy, the drunk who hit my car, he walked away with a broken arm. That's it. My dad…never mind, it's not important."

"Sure it is." His voice was soft. She had never opened up to him like this and he could tell it shocked her a little too.

She looked at him and gave a weak smile. She hated that he was seeing her vulnerable, but what was the point in hiding it now? He would only find out. "My dad blamed me. He said it was my fault. There was no way I could have seen the car. It was coming way too fast. Over 100 miles per hour is what they said. But he still blamed me. Our relationship was never the same. He started drinking and then…well, the rest is history, really. He's not here anymore." She looked slightly embarrassed at what she had said, but there was nothing she could do now.

"Wow, I think your reason for hating red is way better than mine." He stood up and came to stand beside her. "If you ever need someone to talk to…"

"Don't worry. I know where you'll be. And the same goes for you. If you ever feel the need to just let it out, you know you can always turn to me, right?"

He nodded. They both knew this was a one time deal. This sharing of dark secrets, but it was still nice to know that if they ever needed it, there would be someone there for them.


End file.
